Passing Notes
by green-eyed blonde
Summary: Harry is bored and Draco has always proved an interesting endeavor. So they pass notes in class. One of those lame but cute stories. SLASH! That means lovely pretty squishy boylove!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: This stuff is so not mine. Pfft I WISH! Then I would be my own hero…**

**A/N: Hey there homies! Alright. So this is my VERY FIRST fanfic and I would really appreciate some encouragement! I wrote this in the summer for my friend to read and now have decided to post it. It was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but I couldn't end it. Not there! Ok so read and…enjoy? **

Chapter One

Harry was bored. He was very, very bored. He indifferently watched Hermione scribble furiously, glancing up at Professor Binns every once in a while. She noticed Harry staring at her and gave him a look that clearly said 'get to work'. Harry pretended he missed the look and turned away from her. He sighed. Ron was asleep beside him, so he couldn't amuse himself that way. Harry tried to zone out and daydream like he usually did, but today he felt restless. He scanned the classroom for any kind of entertainment, and stopped when he caught sight of a blindingly blonde head. _Perfect_, he thought. _Now...what to do…what to do...Hmm. _He grinned. This should be interesting. He dipped his quill in ink and started writing, smirking the whole time. He quietly crumpled up the piece of paper, dropped it on the floor, and using his wand guided it to Malfoy's chair.

The blonde had been sitting with his head in his hand, tuning out Binns' droning, when he felt something tap his ankle. When he didn't respond, it happened again and again, harder each time. Annoyed, he looked down to see a crumpled ball of paper. _Probably from Pansy_, he thought. He often received notes from the dark-haired girl; stupid useless drabble, usually. He was surprised when he had carefully smoothed out the paper and saw that the handwriting didn't look anything like Pansy's. He read it over.

_My dearest Draco, do you like me?_

Underneath this line were three boxes that were clearly meant as choices for him to check off. Yes, no, and maybe. Draco snorted at the juvenile nature of the note, which woke up Blaise, who had been sleeping with his eyes open beside him. Blaise looked at him, but soon fell back into his stupor when nothing happened. Draco looked around the room, trying to figure out who the author was. He noticed a certain Gryffindor Boy-Who-Lived looking at him, grinning like an idiot. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, who in turn wiggled both of his in what would be a suggestive manner, had he not been collapsing in silent laughter. Draco rolled his eyes.

_How immature_. He contemplated his answer to the ridiculous note, which somehow reminded him of a movie he once saw about a 12-year-old girl.

_It's not _that_ ridiculous, his other self commented._

_Yes it is! What am I thinking? It's Potter for Merlin's sake. _

_Yes...Potter...with that great body and those gorgeous emerald eyes, look at him sitting there laughing! He looks so effing cute! _

_CUTE? POTTER? What the hell is wrong with me? I must really be losing it..._

_You've already lost it. _

_Shut up!_

_See? You're telling yourself to shut up. You are so far gone you can't see the edge anymore. _

_Oh god...should I use this stupid opening to tell Har— Potter how I feel?_

_Duh! _

_But what if he rejects me? I could never show my face again!_

_Uh, am I the only part of your mind that wasn't wiped out by blonde-ness? He already rejected you once and you still show your admittedly perfect face all the time. In fact, the voice in Draco's head added slyly, I believe you show that face to Harry more times then could be considered coincidence._

_SHUTTEY! Anyways, that's different! If Draco hadn't been having this whole debate inside his head he would have utterly embarrassed himself with the whiney tone that was taking over. What if he thinks I'm crazy? Or…icky. (Yes, icky.) _

_What if he doesn't?_

That one had him. Draco was struggling. He had barely just admitted to himself that he liked Harry. How could he admit it to the dark-haired boy so soon? He shot a look in the boy's direction. Potter was still staring at him, waiting. . .

**A/N: Did you like it? Huh huh?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: These characters and stuff aren't mine, unfortunately.**

**A/N: OMGOSH wow! You guys actually like this story! I was so amazed with all the reviews I got, thanks so much to those who reviewed! You like me, you really like me! sniff Well ok here is chapter 2, a little short. I know that the next chapter is going to better! Going to be fun…In the meantime, I hope you like this one!**

_Last week on Passing Notes **soap opera style**:_

_Draco was struggling. He had barely just admitted to himself that he liked Harry. How could he admit it to the dark-haired boy so soon? He shot a look in the boy's direction. Potter was still staring at him, waiting. . ._

Draco smirked at Harry and turned back to the note to reply. He had made up his mind. He marked his choice and then folded the paper neatly into four, frowning slightly at the mess that Harry had made crumpling it. He sent back the note in the same way Harry had given it to him. Harry sat up smiling in amusement when he noticed it coming. He bent over and grabbed it, then opened it and saw Draco's answer to his ridiculous question.

_'Maybe'._

Harry stared down at the neat little checkmark for a few moments, then glanced back up at Draco, who was watching nervously (though he looked perfectly calm and collected on the outside) for Harry's reaction. Draco couldn't tell from his face exactly what the boy was thinking. Usually it was so easy. When Harry caught his eye Draco smirked at him and winked before turning back to face the front of the room.

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! I did _not _just _wink_ at Harry Potter! Oh look at him! He's totally and thoroughly confused. _

Draco had to try really hard not to laugh at the look on Harry's face.

Harry was not quite sure if he had seen what he thought he'd seen...Draco...winking...at him? He hadn't been expecting that. It was kind of weird...

_Oh, yes, and asking him if he wuvs you wasn't weird at all, _a voice in Harry's head remarked sarcastically.

_That's true...Alright. Well this little game could keep me from rotting in some of my classes... _

So Harry picked up his quill again and began to write. He looked up at the back of Draco's head for inspiration and got lost in thought.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry jumped. Ron and Hermione were standing with their bags. The classroom was nearly empty.

"The bell rang! Come on, we'll be late," said Hermione.

"Oh yeah. Right." Harry hurriedly stuffed his books into his bag and jumped up to walk with his friends.

"Gods, that lesson was quite possibly the most boring EVER," Ron complained as they headed off to Transfiguration.

"Oh Ron, it wasn't any worse than usual." Ron snorted.

"Look what it did to Harry! Sheesh. I think if Binns were to drop dead in front of the class in the middle of a _sentence_, that nobody would notice."

"Well I'm sure nobody would notice, seeing as he's already dead, Ronald." Harry and Ron laughed as they entered the classroom and took their seats. Professor McGonagall came in and started lecturing the class on who knows what kind of lame-ass crapola.

Harry finished his note and watched it slide over to Draco on the floor, as if propelled by magic. (Oh wait, haha..) It tapped Draco's very expensive and totally fabulous (in the words of Pansy) shoe and Draco accio'd it into his hand without looking down. He had to be careful; McGonagall was a lot more observant than Binns. He discreetly uncrumpled it and poised his quill over it so it looked like he was taking notes.

'_Hey studmuffin,' _the note started. The first line and already Draco was trying not to smile.

'_Maybe you like me? _Maybe_? Well I know what that means, Draco. It means you loooove me, you wanna be my bessst friend, you wanna daaaate me, you wanna pin me up against a wall and dooo me!' _

Draco's eyebrows went up. He couldn't help but conjure up a little mental picture of that, and a corner of his mouth came up in a mini-smirk.

'_I know you think I'm gorgeous, love. Don't deny it any longer. Come on, tell me you love me!_

_ Kisses and hugs,_

_ Your very favourite rival'_

_He doesn't really think I..._thought Draco. _No, he's only playing around. Playing this twisted game of his. Twisted, yet admittedly fun. _

Draco then proceeded to write a response on the other side of the page.

Meanwhile, Harry was a little bit worried.

_Oh god...Was that too much? I sounded like a bloody ponce...Wait, he doesn't think I'm gay does he? No I don't think so…He won't be..erm...disturbed, by that lovely little note, will he? Nah I don't think so...He's Malfoy; undisturbable. But that 'do me' line was pretty—_

His inner rant was interrupted when he noticed Draco's reply note, which seemed to be trying to climb up his leg to get his attention. Draco Malfoy will not be ignored. Harry grabbed it off his shin and opened it to read.

'_To my love-bunny,_

_My God Potter. I didn't know you were so into me. Or rather, into me being into you. insert patented Malfoy smirk here Somebody loves himself a lot. And I don't mean me. Although, I have a reason to love myself...Wouldn't you agree, cupcake? And since you so wanted to hear this from me, (either you are really insecure or you've fallen for me, and I wouldn't blame you for either), yes, you're gorgeous, yes, I love you, yes, you're heroic and funny and great in bed, blah blah blah...There. How was that? Well, I'm sure you'll be writing me soon; clearly you can't get enough of me._

_ Love from,_

_ Your very favourite Slytherin'_

Harry grinned at the note and looked up, only to see a rather hilarious kiss blown his way, and he couldn't stop the (not at all girly) giggle from tumbling from his mouth. Unfortunately not only did Draco hear it (and love it), but so did everyone else in the room, including the stern professor. She stopped talking and walked over to Harry's desk. All eyes were on the two.

"Is there something you would like to share with the class, Mr. Potter?"

"No, Professor," answered Harry very honestly. He hastily tried to hide the note from view but he was too slow. McGonagall held out her hand for the note and Harry gave it to her reluctantly. She read it over silently, her eyes widening. Then her brows knitted and she looked very lost. The poor woman thought she had lost her mind. Didn't Potter and Malfoy...hate each other?

Draco and Harry exchanged a look and both were fighting to hold in their laughter at the look on McGonagall's face, despite themselves. The woman looked at Harry and then at Draco uncertainly, and then spoke.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, detention for both of you for passing notes in class." The two nodded, still finding the whole thing quite amusing. In fact, our little Slytherin prince was quite satisfied with this development. Detention with Harry...Hmm.

Ron was looking murderously at Draco for getting Harry detention. He made a mental note to ask him later what the foul git had written.

Hermione, though, was looking curiously at her friend. Harry really didn't seem to be as upset as he should be.

**A/N: Alright! There you go, another chapter. super super proud Review please! It makes me happy. You want to make me happy don't you?**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This stuff isn't mine okay? I have no money because I didn't think up this stuff, and you can't sue me because I have no money…But why would I be writing on if I had come up with this stuff and had money?

**A/N: Alright so I thought that this would be the cliché detention scene chappie, but too bad it's not! Other fun stuff had to happen first…Next chapter! I hope you like this one!**

At lunch that day Harry was shoveling food into his mouth when he realized Hermione was watching him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What?" he asked, spraying only a little bit of food on the table.

"Well Harry, it's just that when McGonagall gave you that—" Hermione started, but was cut off by Ron.

"Yeah! What did the ferret say to you anyway?"

Harry thought carefully before answering this. The notes _were_ a joke, but he didn't think that Ron would quite understand why he would write such things to your enemy; especially one who is a guy. Especially one who is Malfoy.

"Nothing, nothing," Harry answered, shaking his head. "Just the usual garbage about me, and the mandatory comments about you guys." Ron growled at this.

"So of course I had to write a lovely little response."

"Good," Ron nodded approvingly. "That arse really needs to get a hobby." Harry laughed.

"Ahem," Hermione scowled. Harry smiled apologetically.

"As I was_ saying_, Harry, you really didn't look very angry when you got that

detention. I thought you would have been outraged that you got a detention with Malfoy, because of him. Of course, it was both of your faults, but I know that's not how you see it," Hermione said. Harry shrugged.

"Whatever," he said. "It's just Malfoy." Ron knitted his eyebrows and Hermione raised hers. Then Ron clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder and said,

"You know what, mate? You're right. We really shouldn't be wasting so many thoughts on that git. You should just deck him in detention and be done with it." Hermione frowned, and Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table to see the very subject of their conversation watching him.

Draco immediately put his eyes down to his plate.

_Shit. He didn't see that, did he? _Draco sighed. His mood had taken a dive since Transfiguration that morning. This whole "crush" thing really wasn't working for him. Draco didn't like wanting something he couldn't have. He didn't like the scary feelings he got when Harry was around. He didn't like having to depend on Harry's feelings. Draco Malfoy liked control, and now he really didn't seem to have any. It was making him crazy.

"Draco?" asked Blaise, who was sitting next to him.

"What is it, Zabini?"

"What was in that note you and Potter were passing?"

"None of your business," snapped Draco. He was not in the mood for Blaise and his crazy mind games.

"Oh I see," said Blaise. "It was a lurrrve note!" Draco looked up at Blaise's smirk and his teasing eyes. Not in the mood for those either. Draco blushed just a little at that. Damn. Another thing he couldn't control. Blaise's eyes widened at his reaction.

"What? What the hell were you writing, Draco?" Blaise was grinning.

"Nothing," mumbled poor Draco. "We were only joking around." He couldn't help but look up at Harry then, and he bit his lip. Unfortunately for him though, Blaise saw this, and, being surprisingly observant and insightful, the boy let out a delighted laugh.

"I can't believe it! You like him! You like Potter, don't you?"

Draco's eyes widened and he turned to look at Blaise.

"NO! No! I do not! UGH! Honestly...Harry Potter..." he exclaimed.

But Blaise was still grinning his face off.

"Just wait until Pansy hears...She'll be crushed." Pansy had been in love with Draco since...well...always. She shamelessly flirted with him all the time, even though she knew he was gay. The poor girl seemed to think she could turn him straight.

"SHUTTEY!" Draco yelled, and then sighed. Blaise had already seen through him, there was no use lying. "Okay, so maybe I think he's...attractive. You'd better keep your mouth shut though." He scowled. Blaise smiled triumphantly.

"Don't worry love. I'll keep your deep, dark secret. But how are you going to snag the Golden Boy? Is he even—"

"Gay? I don't know...He certainly seems pretty straight. Although it might not be _totally_ hopeless. I think a completely straight guy may have been a little scared by the content of those notes..." Blaise looked at him questioningly and Draco filled him in.

"But he was just trying to amuse himself, right?" asked Draco.

"I don't know, Draco. Would a truly straight man write those things?"

"I...Maybe! Ugh. You're no help."

"Well you know the only way to find out for sure."

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Put the moves on him," Blaise finished with a smile.

Two days later, it was Friday, and Harry was definitely done with this week. Every day, the same rubbish. The only thing that had been different and entertaining that week was—

Harry craned his neck around Neville's head to see that blonde one he knew so well. Ah. Time for some fun. Who really needs History of Magic anyways? And twice a week! Ugh!

Draco had been so absorbed in daydreaming (A/N: About who, you ask? That's right, I know what you're thinking. And you're pervy! But I like it...) that he jumped when something hit his leg. A crumpled up ball of paper. Draco's inner self began cheering. He had been waiting for another of Harry's careless little balls of happy! He looked over his shoulder at the object of his affections and saw Harry pointedly looking away and looking conspicuously inconspicuous. Draco smiled as he opened the note and read it.

'_Snugglebum,_

_You're breaking my heart, you know. I waited for so long after our beautiful time together, but you never wrote me! It almost seems like you're avoiding me. It's always me that has to write to you first, Draco. Why is that? Are you mad at me? Is that it? You're mad because we got detention. Well I can't take this anymore! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME! sob What's changed? Why don't you heart me anymore? I'm still sexy, right? I'm not getting fat, am I? Draco, set my mind at ease!_

_Love,_

_Your very favourite drama queen'_

Draco had to use all of his self-restraint in order not to laugh out loud. Instead, he began to tremble slightly with silent, held in laughter. Harry noticed this and grinned. Hermione, who was sitting beside Harry, saw him and followed his gaze. At first she frowned; Harry must be fighting with Malfoy again. But then she saw Malfoy turn around and stick out his lower lip, giving Harry a pouty look. Then his face cracked into a smile as he ducked back around with a muffled laugh. Harry was still grinning. Now, if Hermione had been the type to swear, she probably would have said something along the lines of, 'what the fuck?' But as it was, she just gaped at Harry before narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

A few moments later, Harry got a reply.

'_Sugarface,_

_I can't believe you would think such things! Of course you're still sexy. Not fat at all, love. Don't worry. But you never think of others, do you Potter? Maybe I thought _you_ hated _me_ because we got detention. _Maybe_ I thought you didn't want to get in trouble again. But now I see you're ready to take risks in order to talk to me. Or maybe it's more than talking you want._

_Muah!_

_Your very favourite sexpot'_

Harry chuckled quietly. Then, since he knew Malfoy was watching, he held the paper to his chest and looked up into the distance, heaving a dramatic "in love" sigh. Quite a few people gave him the eye for that one.

That night in the common room, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were all sitting around talking about the amount of work they had. Harry shifted around and leaned back in his seat to get more comfortable. Ron, who was sitting beside him, noticed a piece of paper almost completely out of Harry's pocket and he reached out and snatched it.

"What's this, Harry?" he asked. Harry yawned.

"Dunno..." But then Harry suddenly sat straight up as he realized he did know. He tried to pounce on Ron and grab it back but Ron grinned and ran to the other side of the room to read it.

"Ron, no! Don't! Harry yelled, but Ron was already reading it. His eyes bulged out when he was finished and he began turning some very interesting colours.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?"

"Ron, no, it's not like—"

"HARRY! WHAT THE FUCK? This is a bloody _love note _to _Draco sodding Malfoy_!" Ron had lowered his voice at that last sentence, and the people who had been staring turned back to what they were doing. Hermione and Harry came over to where Ron had run to, and Hermione took the note from Ron and read it over. Yes...this matched up with what she had seen earlier in class. Ron and Hermione now stood silently, staring at Harry. Ron was still looking green, and he was mouthing the word 'sexpot' over and over. Harry almost giggled at the state of his friend.

"Guys, it's only a joke. Relax. I was bored, okay? I wanted to have some fun so Draco and I have been playing this little game." Ron looked visibly relieved, but Hermione bit her lip in thought. Harry laughed and said to Ron,

"Sheesh, mate. You really think I would start dating _Malfoy_?" He and Ron both laughed.

"Oh gods, Harry. I was scared for a moment there. You had me thinking you were swinging the wrong way..."

_Wait, _thought Harry. _Ron seemed more freaked out at the thought of me being gay than at the fact that it was Malfoy...Is he really that closed-minded? _Harry regarded his friend for a moment. He didn't know why he felt so upset with him for that, but he did.

Ron went up to bed later, leaving Harry and Hermione doing their homework.

"Harry," Hermione broke the comfortable silence.

"Mmm?"

"Well, erm, Harry...You don't...You don't like Malfoy, do you?" she asked timidly. Harry's head shot up.

"WHAT! NO! Hermione! I told you that was only a joke! Me and Malfoy? Come on! I'm straight, first of all!"

"Oh back to 'Malfoy' now is it?"

"What?"

"Well earlier you called him Draco."

"I did not!" Harry thought for a moment. "D-did I?" Hermione nodded.

"Ugh! Who cares? The point is there's no way I like him because not only is it Malfoy, but he's a guy! I like girls, Hermione!"

"Do you Harry? Really? It's alright if you don't."

"Hermione! I can't believe you!"

"Okay okay. But are you sure Malfoy doesn't have a thing for you, either?"

"Wh-what?"

"It's just, those notes _were_ pretty flirtey, Harry. You don't think he might have gotten the wrong idea?"

At this point, Harry was panicking.

"No! You don't-you don't think he...?" Harry looked at Hermione with wide eyes.

"I think I have to go to bed." And with that, he ran to his room, leaving a concerned Hermione in the common room.

Harry lay in bed, wide awake, thinking about what Hermione had said.

_Draco doesn't, _he cursed himself, _Malfoy doesn't really think I'm gay, does he? He doesn't think I like him, right? Is he gay? Am I gay? No! If I was gay I would have never noticed how great his hair is, or that cute little arse of his, or the way his eyes are when he's thoroughly pissed at me, or— _Harry stopped himself, slightly freaked out. Then he rolled over and put his face into the pillow. _I'm not gay..._

_**A/N: Reviews are like a drug! Please! I gotta have my fix!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not my peeps or places yo!**

**A/N: Oh wow! To my reviewers, omgosh I heart you to DEATH! You are the nicest bunch of people EVER! heart explodes with looove Oh and one of you asked me where the story was headed...Fluffy-ness of course! I definitely can't do smut...even with all of the smut I read, haha, and I just don't really like angsty-ness. So there you have it! Happyness always! So sorry about the delay, I've been busy. Have fun with this chapter! There aren't any notes, but trust me, you will not be disappointed.**

Harry woke up the next morning wondering why the hell a heterosexual male would have dreams involving himself, another male, and very little clothing. he was definitely scared now. No. Fucking. Way. should he be having those kinds of dreams about Malfoy.

_He's good looking, okay? That's all. Even a straight guy could admit that._

_Hmm. But a straight guy wouldn't have to "clean up" after noticing that another guy is attractive._

_...Shut up! I'm not gay!_

Harry was extremely worried. This just wasn't right. Harry groaned and rolled right off the bed. He thought maybe smashing his head on the nightstand might knock some sense into him. It didn't. But fuck did it hurt. He rubbed the back of his head. Ah well, maybe he had amnesia now!

Draco...

Damn.

After showering and dressing Harry went down to the common room just in time to see Hermione and Ron spring back from each other. Oh. So they've finally done it. They've finally gotten together. The three of them stood there awkwardly staring at each other for a moment or two.

"Alright," said Harry. "That's enough of this. I'm going to go...somewhere...anywhere..." he muttered. And he sped through the portrait hole, missing the shy grins his friends gave each other. Harry wandered down the hall and wondered vaguely when Hermione and Ron had become a couple. He also wondered when they were planning on telling him. If _they were planning on telling me, _he thought bitterly. He probably would have gone and asked them about it but right then he had other things on his mind.

Harry saw Professor McGonagall coming down the hall and she stopped him.

"Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor?"

"I just wanted to remind you that your detention is tonight at 8:00. My classroom." Harry nodded. "I will leave you to remind Mr. Malfoy." She nodded at something behind Harry. He turned to see Malfoy sauntering down the hall, coming in their direction. McGonagall left Harry and went on her way. Malfoy noticed Harry and fell into step beside him.

"Potter." He nodded at Harry.

"Malfoy," Harry responded, keeping his eyes downward.

"Was that about our detention?" Harry cast a quick sidelong glance at Draco before answering.

"Yes. Tonight in the classroom at 8." The two were still walking side by side and suddenly Draco realized how strange that was. When they came to a hallway intersection they both went in opposite ways, breathing twin sighs of relief. _That was unbelievably awkward...How will we get through tonight? _Harry continued his very confused inner monologue all day. Was he gay? Was Malfoy gay? Were those notes too flirtey? Was that Malfoy's natural hair colour?

Draco was in his room, looking at himself in the mirror. He wrinkled his nose. No, that shirt wasn't right. He took it off to change it and Blaise flopped back from his sitting position on Draco's bed.

"Ah! Stop changing! You're like a bloody woman!" Draco glared as best he could while pulling a different shirt over his head.

"That one wasn't right," he said.

"Draco, you looked fine. Besides, it's Potter. You really think he'll notice?"

"Blaise. I am not dressing to impress Potter. I want to look good because I _always_ look good. To look good is to feel good, and if I look my best then it's easier for me to judge others." Blaise laughed as Draco gave him a mockingly sweet and innocent smile. Just then they noticed the time and Draco headed out.

When Harry got to the Transfigurations room Draco was already there. _Damn, _Harry thought. _Could he be any hotter? I mean, from an objective, and, er, totally straight view. _And it was true. Draco looked like quite the little sexpot. Even more so than usual. **(A/N: Like, have you heard that song "Michael" by Franz Ferdinand? That hot. Gay hotness! lol) **Draco smirked when he saw Harry staring at him, _totally_ noticing his clothes. _Stupid Blaise...Doesn't know anything..._

McGonagall got there amidst this thick, smelly green fog of silence. (**A/N: Wasn't that a fabulous description?) **She led them into the room and got right down to business.

"You two will be setting up these new desks for the classroom." She gestured to a pile of boxes in the corner. Draco frowned.

"Why don't we just magic up the old ones?"

"We've been doing that for 200 years, Malfoy. It is time for some new desks." She turned to go, but then stopped and accio'd their wands. At their cries of protest, she pointed to a toolbox that Harry was quite sure hadn't been there a moment before.

"You will be doing this the muggle way." And with that, she left. Harry immediately walked over and took all the stuff out of one of the boxes. He didn't want to be here with Draco longer than necessary. He was mildly surprised when Draco came over to help him without even putting up a fight. Or complaining.

"Fucking ridiculous...Malfoys don't do manual labour..." Oops, scratch that. Harry sighed and just got to work. Both of them were relatively quiet, until Malfoy needed some help.

"Potter, I need some help." Harry felt jarred when he heard those words come out of the other boy's mouth. Draco Malfoy! Asking for help! Aww!

"I can't get this one in."

"Well come here."

"Here...Try it."

"Wow...it's really tight..."

"It won't fit. It's too big."

"I see that Malfoy. I'm _right here_."

"Just shove it in!"

"Just shove it in? Will that be okay?"

"Yes Potter, you have my permission. Shove in!"

"Erm...Alright."

(Grunting)

"..."

"Now it's stuck."

"Ugh! I can see that! Erm...Alright, just, just yank it out and we'll try again."

"Yank it out? That's your solution to everything!"

"Potter, I'm not amused by your double-entendres right now! We have to get the stick in the hole!"

"Fine! Sorry Malfoy, just trying to make this horrible situation a little more fun."

"Well don't bother. Pull it out!"

(A sigh and then panting)

"I can't get it out!"

"Well of course not, look how you're holding it! Stop being such a pansy and grab onto it! Get your hands around the stick!"

(A growl from Harry)

"There, see? You've got it!"

"Now how are we supposed to get it in properly? Are you sure these are the right bits?"

"Yes I'm sure! I know my bits, Potter!"

"Okay okay. Erm...Do you think maybe...I dunno maybe we can use some sort of oil or something? To slide it in easier?"

"Hmm. You're right, for once. I'll go see if McGonagall gave us any."

And the two continued on like this until they had finished the desks a few hours later. They sat on their finished works to wait until McGonagall came back and dismissed them.

"Hey Malfoy?"

"What is it?"

"Erm...Are you...er, nevermind." Of course Draco now dearly needed to know what it was that Harry was going to ask.

"You can't do that. You can't start to say something and then not! What was it, Potter?" Harry sighed and looked down, then he decided to just go for it.

"Malfoy...Are you gay?" After a few seconds of silence Harry looked up to see Malfoy smirking at him.

"And why do you want to know, Potter?" asked Draco sweetly. Harry blushed.

"Er...Just wondering. I mean...Hermione said something and I started thinking about those notes and—"

"Granger said something about me being gay?" Harry nodded.

"She really does know everything, doesn't she?" Harry's eyes widened.

"So...you are gay?" A smirk from Draco.

"Yes Potter. I'm a regular shopaholic, bathroom-hogging, rainbow-loving, prancing and twirling, boy-loving boy. Does that bother you?" Draco said all of this with a straight face and at the end looked at Harry with a very concerned and innocent look. The boy had quite a wicked sense of humour. How it is he could always keep a straight face (spare me the puns) was a mystery. Harry snorted and then answered,

"No, it doesn't bother me." He glanced up. "Should it?" Draco gave him a look.

"Of course not. But Potter...Why did you ask? You're not hiding in any closets of your own, are you?" During the time he was speaking, Draco had slid off his desk and closer to Harry. This was his chance to "put the moves on". It was his first checkpoint that Harry hadn't freaked out when he learned that Draco was as straight as a gay con-artist with scoliosis.

Harry swallowed and shook his head. Draco moved even closer.

"Are you sure Potter? Because I'm quite sure that you're checking me out _right now_." Harry was blushing like mad by now, and he twitched tremendously when Draco put his hand on his knee. _I wasn't checking him out! I was—_

But this thought was cut off when he suddenly found himself conjoined to Draco at the lips. Yes, these were the moves. And Harry, for some reason, didn't pull away, didn't punch Malfoy in the face, didn't hex him right there. He just stayed there, kissing his rival of so many years, wondering how it was his lips were so soft.

Just then Professor McGonagall came in. She stopped dead at the sight that met her eyes, and then walked right back out into the hall. She steadied herself with a wall and then shook off the shock. Clearly, she had missed something. The poor woman gathered herself and started to walk back into the room. But a very red Harry was already leaving, and a smug-looking Draco did the same after informing her that the desks were finished. McGonagall sat down in the empty room and conjured herself a very "strong" cup of tea.

**A/N: REEEEEEVIEWWWWW! (please)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Oh.My.God. I am SO sorry! I can't believe I let this go so long! But I just had a really bad case of writer's block, and to be honest, I'm not even really finished this chapter. But I felt really bad and so decided to post what I have, and I think I'm over my writer's block for a while at least, so…yeah…DON'T HATE ME! And as always, thanks to my many brilliant (brilliant because you all love me; you have great taste) reviewers! You are way too good to me. Not that I mind or anything. Ok well…a thousand apologies and enjoy this bit.**

**Disclaimer: It's not mine, and if you thought it was, then…er…it's late…you can fill in your own ending to that.**

Chapter 5 

Blaise looked up eagerly from his place on the couch when he heard Draco come in.

"Well?" he asked. Draco's eyes sparkled in amusement.

"Well what?"

"Well what happened? Did you, Harry, and McGonagall have a threesome?"

Draco started and regarded Blaise with shock and horror.

"What the fuck, Blaise! You have a sick mind."

The dark boy grinned.

"So that's a yes?"

"Urgh! Shuttey!" There was silence for a moment and then Draco broke it.

"I kissed him."

Blaise's eyes widened.

"Bloody hell! Did you really?" A nod. "What did he do? I don't see any bruises."

"He didn't do anything."

"He didn't even yell at you?"

"Nope," Draco replied pensively. "He didn't say a word. Just ran off. I'm not really sure what he's thinking right now, and to be quite honest, it's killing me. But I suppose it's a good sign that I still have all of my limbs intact. And he didn't seem too put off when I told him I was gay."

"Draco," Blaise began after thinking for a moment. "I think you've got yourself a man. I think if there was a definite negative we would know. This looks like a maybe to me."

_'Maybe...That sounds familiar...' _thought Draco.

Meanwhile, Harry was stumbling around the halls, drunk with confusion. What the bloody hell had just happened? Nothing, that's what. Nothing had happened. He hadn't just kissed Malfoy. Nope.

Harry stood outside the common room for a few moments mentally shaking himself. Then he took a deep breath and muttered "lust-puppy" so he could enter.

He went in and walked over to where his bestest friends were sitting laughing about something. He sat down with what must have been quite an ominous look on his face, because both his friends suddenly looked concerned.

"You alright, mate? How bad was detention?" asked Ron.

Harry looked up and forced a smile.

"Ah, usual Malfoy. Nothing I can't handle," he lied. Hermione looked skeptical, but chose instead to force him to do his homework. She and Ron went off to bed, leaving Harry to stare blankly in front of him as he silently went crazy. So apparently Draco did like him. Or was he just trying to freak him out? Ugh, if he was trying to scare him, it was definitely working. Mostly, though, he was unnerved by the fact that he hadn't beat the shite out of Malfoy for that. And by the fact that Draco had been right, he was checking him out. _'Ohgodohgodohgod...NO! Fuck it I'm not gay!' _But...that kiss hadn't been so bad. Actually it was kind of ass-kicking, ball-sucking, fan-bloody-tastic. Harry dropped his head onto the desk and groaned.

"Harry?" came Hermione's voice. He looked up to see her standing there in her pajamas, looking quite worried about him.

"Harry, I'm quite worried about you."

"Oh really? And, er, why's that, Hermione?"

She sat down next to him and got straight to the point.

"What really happened today, Harry? I know it was something, so don't tell me it was nothing."

Harry blushed and his eyes widened. Damn Hermione and her always-knowing-when-something-was-wrong ability. He realized that there was no point in lying, she'd get it out of him anyway.

"You were...possibly...right."

The girl looked questioningly at him, and he took a deep breath.

"Erm. He...Malfoy, er, kissed me."

Hermione nodded, but her lips turned down at the ends as if she was trying not to giggle.

"Okay Harry. Well, did you like it?"

Harry started. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that.

"What? Hermione, no! He's a...he's a Malfoy! He's a he!"

"So what? Just tell me, objectively, was it a good kiss? Did you feel anything?"

"Well...I suppose it was rather nice."

"Just nice?"

"Ugh! Stop doing this to me! I think you know more about what I'm thinking than I do, so why don't you just explain me to me?"

"Don't be a prat, Harry." She sighed. "I'm going to bed."

She had one foot on the stairs when she turned and added,

"Oh, and Harry? You should definitely talk to Draco. Don't do that whole 'avoiding awkward social situations' thing you're so fond of."

The next day Harry did that whole 'avoiding awkward social situations' thing he was so fond of. He didn't want to face Malfoy because he wouldn't know what to say. Because he didn't know how he felt. So for the rest of the day Harry didn't look at Draco, he didn't talk about him, and he didn't even think about him. Much.

This blissful (okay, not really blissful) ignorance (er, not really ignorance) of Draco's presence was interrupted for a moment when Harry ploughed into him when turning a corner. Both boys' books went flying, and Harry got knocked to the ground. He started to apologize, but then he realized who he was talking to. Poor socially inept Harry panicked. He made a squeaky sort of noise, kept his eyes to the floor as he gathered his books, and then ran.

A few minutes later he stopped running. _'What the bloody hell was that?_' he asked himself. _'That was ridiculous! I can't even...He..._' Harry smacked himself. _'Why am I freaking out like this? I'm shaking like a bloody girl! I'm HARRY POTTER! Ugh...Okay that doesn't work. I have to DO something!' _

This Gryffindor-esque sentiment was strengthened at dinner, when he saw Draco eating with the Slytherins, looking completely calm and in control. _'He looks like that all the time...How can he show no emotion like that? He's like a...a..emotion...less...bowl of...soup..._' (Poor baby can't even think straight!) _'Honestly, who does that? Freaking Slytherins...' _

So Harry decided that after dinner would be The Confrontation.

**A/N: Do I still have the right to ask you guys for reviews? I'll try to be good from now on, promise!**


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: whispered Sorry. looks down 

**I love you all, I really do. I just don't quite know how to show it. Or maybe I do, and I'm just really lazy. The next story I have is definitely going to have a plan before I start writing it, kays? Then I won't get so much writer's block.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, you wouldn't know about it, because I'm greedy like that.**

Draco knew something was going to happen. He could sense it. The tension burned into his face, shot out from the double-barreled emeralds in the direction of the Gryffindor table. He wasn't sure if the Something would be good or bad, but anything would be better than being ignored like this. He hadn't even had a chance to talk to Harry when they'd bumped into each other. There was nothing Draco hated more than being ignored. He had done something extremely risky! He wanted to see results! Was Harry repulsed? Was he intrigued? Draco was trying to be patient, but it was so hard! (In more ways than one.)

Draco got up and left the Great Hall without a word to the Slytherins. He eyed Harry on his way out.

_Shite_, thought Harry. _Er…I guess it's time now. _He had been dead set but now started to falter. His resolve started turning into warm squishy mushyness. Before it could completely vanish, he stood up, made his excuses, and followed Draco out the doors. He paused once outside, looking around to see where Draco had gone.

"Looking for me?" came a voice from beside Harry. He turned around to see the object of his…something, leaning against the wall, his tie slackened, his sleeves rolled up, his blonde hair loosely falling over his eyes. Harry thought he looked completely shaggable. And that was completely horrifying. Poor confused little Harry. He involuntarily took a few steps back.

Draco's brow furrowed slightly as he took in Harry's surprised and almost frightened expression. Why did Harry look so freaked out? Draco had thought that he was going to get his arse kicked. Verbally or physically. He had been mentally writing a script so that he could explain things to Harry. Now everything was flipped around on him. He felt this strange urge to make Harry left uncomfortable. That was different.

"Harry?" he asked quietly. "What's…What's going on?"

Harry was jarred by the sheer vulnerability Draco was allowing him to see right now.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "Wait. Did you call me Harry?"

Draco laughed.

"Would you prefer 'love-bunny'?" he smirked. Harry though, blushed and started looking even more uncomfortable. Draco's smirk disappeared.

"Okay Harry, I guess you didn't come here for some friendly conversation about Snape's hair or something. You want to know why I kissed you, right?"

Harry squirmed.

"Well…Yeah…Er, no…Well I mean I guess there's only one reason you'd kiss someone, yeah? Mostly I think…I just don't know what I should be thinking, to be honest. Do you actually uh…You're not just fucking with my mind here, are you?"

Draco started to move forward, and Harry knew what was coming. So he panicked. He started backing up fast.

"Ah! No! Stop right there! Don't touch me!" The last line came out high-pitched and really quite comical, if Harry hadn't been serious. Then he ran. He sprinted down the hall, leaving Draco with wide eyes and a mouthful of corpse comfort, words for Harry lying dead on his tongue.

Harry slowed to a fast walk as he saw Seamus coming towards him. He didn't look Seamus in the eye, hoping he'd get the hint and not talk to him. The boy, however, did not get it.

"Harry!" he started brightly, until he noticed Harry's harried state. "Hey…What's happened?"

The dark haired boy cursed his transparency. He opened his mouth to give Seamus the slip, but when he looked at the boy's honest and open face, something made him instead pour Seamus a big tall glass of dramedy. He found himself telling the whole story to his slightly shell-shocked friend. When he was finished, Seamus' lips turned up, and he let out a small giggle. But once he started, it seemed he couldn't stop. He laughed harder and harder, leaving Harry to stand uncomfortably and wait for it to subside. It didn't, and Harry grew a little annoyed. A lot annoyed.

"Seamus! Shut the hell up! Why are you laughing? I am freaking out here!" Seamus tried to strangle his laughter, but ended up in a loud and obvious coughing fit. Harry waited again, this time more satisfied, since Seamus was now hacking up a lung.

A year later (okay no, but it seemed like that to Harry), Seamus was able to speak.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I am!" he said to the pouting brunette. "It's just really really weird. First of all, you and _Draco Malfoy_ exchange cute little notes, then you start finding him attractive, then he kisses you, then you, Harry Potter, get scared and run away _twice_!"

"Yeah, I've got it, thanks," snapped Harry.

"Oh Harry. Where's your Gryffindor courage? Shite, mate. Harry Potter isn't supposed to run away screaming. Not ever."

"I wasn't screaming," he muttered irritably. Seamus smiled at Harry.

"You have to stop trembling like a little girl and go snog Malfoy. I'm sure it will be good. The girls all call him the Slytherin sex god, I've heard."

In spite of himself, Harry smiled.

"You've 'heard'?"

Seamus grinned.

"Yeah that's right. Now go on, write him one of your little notes."

"Seamus, no! I c— I don't—"

"See you later, Harry!" And he turned around and left Harry spluttering.

"Stupid Seamus and his stupid cleverness…" he muttered under his breath. He didn't like it, but that note idea was probably a good one. He could say what he wanted without spazzing out and going for another jog around the school. Although it was quite a good workout, Harry reflected. He pondered for a second, then decided that the library would be the best place to write uninterrupted.

A/N: Alright, I know you people have a thing for the notes, so I'm working on it. But uh, I also have a thing for reviews, hm?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Ohhhhh I'm SO SORRY! I know you sexy little readers were all so angry last time because I took really long and the chapter was short and everything, and then I promised myself that I would be faster this time. BUT THEN I WASN'T! I've been really busy. I'm sorry, I really am. Please love me. Please love this chapter. Better late than never, yeah? 

**Disclaimer: If I owned these kiddiepies, they'd be locked up in my basement doing nasty, dirty, raunchy things. OMG KIDDING! (Or am I…?)**

Once in the library, Harry headed to a table in some deserted corner. He didn't quite want to be interrupted, and found doing something as incriminating as writing a sentimental letter for his supposed Arch Nemesis. He smiled a little to himself. Wasn't that cute, they had been in a relationship technically since first year. They had a title in connection to each other. 'My arch nemesis', 'my friend', 'my hot homosexual lover'…It was all the same really. They all had 'my' in it.

Harry took out some parchment and a quill, and some ink. He wondered why it was exactly they couldn't use pens. Too high-tech for Dumbledore? And how was it that they could all live the whole year with no music? Or computers. Or television. How did they _survive_? What did they _do_ all the time?

Ahem. Back to the story, hm? Harry began to write. He did not know what he was thinking until he wrote it down, it seemed. It was lovely to have this sort of release. It was like he vomited all his feelings onto the page, and now he had a clear view of the chunky, raunchy, multi-coloured mess, so he could examine it properly to see what it was he'd eaten. He read over the letter and suddenly wondered if maybe he shouldn't give it to Draco after all. It was just so…true. Too true. Could he handle Draco seeing such…mush? Would he feel violated once he'd read it? Would it be like getting raped? Raped by Draco…hmm… Harry pulled a headdesk. Clearly he Needed to give the note to the blonde. He needed things to happen, he needed events to unfold. He felt stuck. Nothing was going to happen unless he did something. He knew that Draco wouldn't do anything more. He had taken his turn, and now the ball was in Harry's court. The ball, but not the balls, it seemed. Why was his thoughtless courage failing him? He slammed his hand down on the table. Then he stood up and shouted, "NO! It's not failing me! I'M DOING IT!"

Harry turned, a look of triumphant determination on his face, to see a slightly frightened Hermione. He had forgotten that the library was where Hermione was from 12 noon to 12 noon, Monday through Sunday. Practically. He decided to ignore her questioning (questioning the boy's sanity, maybe?) looks and flashed her a winning smile. Then he slowly backed away, smile never wavering.

"See you, Hermione!" he called as he left. Hermione most definitely thought he was crazy. But maybe he was.

"What's wrong with you, Draco?" Blaise hissed at Draco as they took notes. Draco raised his sharp grey eyes and regarded his friend suspiciously.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Draco. I've known you forever. I think I can tell when you are Pining."

"Pining? This is a technical term, then?"

"Of course. You are pining for Harry. It's simply the best word for it."

Draco looked over his shoulder at the boy in question before turning back to Blaise.

"If I weren't used to this sort of thing, I'd slap you."

"Make it a spank?"

"Shuttey! I was talking. I would bitchslap you if it weren't for the horrible deadpan truth always layed flat on the table for me. How do you do that?"

Blaise smiled and shrugged.

"Well, I'm getting very impatient," Draco went on. "He had better hurry his fucking little arse up."

"I like that you mentioned Harry, fucking, and arse at the same time."

"I like that you listen so well."

Blaise snickered before answering, "Give him some time. If you do something else before he even responds to you, you'll scare him off."

After a short silence, Blaise snorted. "I bet Potter's a virgin."

Another short pause, and then Draco answered, "Well then, that just means I can teach him the proper way, hm? Nobody else could be better to learn then from me, right?"

"Yes Draco, that's right."

Just then, Draco felt a tap on the back of the head. He felt a quick flash of indignant anger until he looked down to see a crumpled piece of parchment. His heart and his hopes rose deliriously until he realized how lame that was and forced them back down. He picked up the ball with a questioning glance at Harry, who determinedly refused to meet his eyes. He peeled open the parchment under the curious and watchful gaze of Blaise.

_Draco, _it began. 'Ok,' Draco thought. 'No lovey nicknames, but no last names either…'

I thought of writing you a sickeningly delicious letter piled high with sarcastic declarations of my love for you and my adoration for your sexacious self, but then I realized that maybe that was too close to the truth to be funny anymore. I think maybe we shouldn't be enemies anymore. But I also don't think we could ever be friends. There's too much…erm…passion, there. This is kind of utterly and completely a little bit the hardest thing ever for me to say, but I think I may have developed a slight, tiny, itsy bitsy crush on you. Okay, so I worship the ground you walk on. I'm going to be honest here and tell you that I never Ever thought I would like to snog you, but after that, er, incident in detention, I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Or it would be the greatest thing that ever happened until the end of the world. I want us to be, uh, a thing. And unless you are totally just leading me on here, I think you do too. Well, do you want to? I can't get you out of my head. EW MY UPPER HEAD YOU SICKO!

Love me,

Harry

Draco read over the letter several times, and a smile involuntarily played over his lips. His insides were squirming with Tense Anticipation, and sweet, cotton candy-like mush, both at the same time. He saw Blaise staring at him and grinning. Clearly his face was giving him away. He looked over at Harry, who was still looking away, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. Draco tucked away the note and patted it satisfactorily. Now, he was ready. Now he could go in for the kill.

**A/N: That's it! One more chapter done! Maybe your reviews will light a fire under my ass. Or in it HAHAA! Oh gods I'm dirty…**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I- I'm so- I don't know what to say! I'm very very sorry? Is that good enough? I really was thinking about all of you, and what you would think of my not!writing, but I was busy! I had exams, you know! But worry not, school is over now! Yeah! Summer is fanfiction season. I thank all of you one THOUSANDFOLD for your reviews, all of them Too Kind! This chapter is really short, but it's okay, because I'm going to be able to write stuff really fast now! Summer, remember? It's kind of different, this chapter. Hardly any dialogue and no notes. It's very…erm…well, please like it. **

**DISCLAIMER: How many times do I have to tell you? It's not bloody mine! **

Chapter Eight 

"Just for that, Malfoy, I'm going to make you work with Potter for today's lesson."

"But Professor, I —"

"Potter! Get your things and move over here."

Draco hid his self-content smirk expertly from Snape as he turned toward the class again and Harry very slowly began packing his bag to move next to him. Who knew making such a fool of old Severus would work so perfectly in his favour? Well, Draco knew, of course. But, well, who else would know how to piss off the professor so nicely? Who else would know exactly how he would try to punish Draco? Nobody. At least nobody Draco could think of. Maybe Dumbledore would know something like that, because he knows everything. But still, Draco remained the most suave, savvy, and street-smart sex god of Slytherin ever to grace these hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Pretty much.

They were making a warmth potion today. Of course, Draco could make it if he was drunk and had his hands tied behind his back (not unheard of, for him), because it was cold down there in the Slytherin part of the castle, and rather than hinder himself with all those clothes, he could use the potion. He was just that clever. Harry, however, would never bother to think of such practical things as potions, and not to mention, was rubbish at them. So when Snape finished his spirit-crushing rambling and told them to get to work, they began in silence (embarrassed on Harry's part, amused on Draco's), with Draco taking it upon himself to do anything above the ability level of a first year.

Draco looked up from his work to make sure the class had stopped staring. They had all been watching as Snape had 'condemned' him to Harry; the Gryffindors in pity of Harry, the Slytherins in just plain amusement at Draco's predicament. Yeah, Slytherins were like that. But hey — he'd done it to himself, hadn't he?

The room was thick with fumes that smelled of pure heat. The smell of sticky pavement on a hot day in the city, the smell of a pulsing nightclub filled with wet bodies, the smell of no air conditioning. Many people were flushed already, and Draco noticed that Granger's hair looked about three times bigger, if that was possible.

His attention was turned back to his partner(/target) when the dark-haired boy grunted in frustration. He was having an issue cutting up some knarled roots. Draco smiled a little at Harry's red cheeks and knitted brows. He squealed like a little girl inside when he saw the boy blow some air straight up to momentarily lift his fringe. Draco gently pressed into Harry to get him to move, and Harry took perhaps slightly longer than he needed to, frozen with shock and maybe something else. He took the knife from his hand and proceeded to cut up the damn things then, as Harry watched in silence. They still hadn't spoken.

Draco finished cutting up the roots and he handed the knife back to Harry, making sure to let their hands touch as much as possible.

And Harry noticed.

And Draco noticed Harry noticing.

And Draco smirked at Harry.

And Harry blushed.

Harry wondered if Draco was just playing with him. He was a quivering mass of shaky, sweaty indecision. He was ready to collapse at Draco's feet and beg him to tell him what was going on. How was it that he could play such games with him, make Harry love him, and then just stand there in front of him, smirking? How was it that this didn't make Harry angry? He just wanted Something! Something more than the subtle innuendo of arse touching arse, which was what Draco was doing just now…Harry wished he didn't like it so much. But he did. He wished Draco would stop licking his lips. He wished Draco would wipe off that drop of saline sweat sliding oh so slowly down his slender white throat and towards the neck of his shirt. But he wouldn't.

Harry wanted to get out of that hot, sweaty room. Or for everyone else but himself and Draco to get out. Harry wanted Draco to say something. Something helpful. Something that made him feel slightly less like a toy. Something that made him feel like he had a little more control over the situation. But Draco liked control. Draco liked that he could control his own feelings for Harry so much more easily than Harry could. He liked that every time he caught Harry's eye, the boy squirmed. It was delightful. The tension was as thick as the fumes from the potions, and Draco was drunk off of both of them. He felt safe under the cover of the smoggy dungeon room, and he felt confident. It was like Harry's confidence all fell out when he was near Draco these days, and Draco could just pick it up and throw it back at him, pelting him with it.

Draco felt empowered, like nothing he did would be unreasonable just now. He edged his way closer and closer to Harry, somehow managing to still look like he was working on the potion. Harry was getting shaky. He was looking all over the room to see if anyone could see whatever it was Draco was going to do. They could. And they were. There were already a few confused faces turned towards the supposed enemies, their figureheads, their heroes, their houses embodied; polar opposites. Polar opposites weren't supposed to be so close to each other. Draco knew they were watching. They were always watching. He was pressed tight against Harry by now, his left leg pinning Harry's right into the table in front of him. He tilted his head toward Harry's, over his shoulder. He put his lips right next to Harry's ear, the space between the two positively tingling, and he whispered into it.

"I got your note."

Harry shivered in the heat. He turned his head, a little surprised at just how close he found Draco there, and peered intently into his grey eyes. They were _so _close. They both stopped moving for a moment, except it seemed like they were both moving so much, to each other. Eyes positively digging into each other, tiny glistening beads of sweat crawling down their skin, slight tremors of their bodies easily felt, as they were pressed against each other. Draco wondered how it was they'd gotten so close. Harry wondered how it was he hadn't pulled away yet. Other people in the room wondered what the fuck was going on.

The bell rang.

**A/N: Short, I know. But uh, it was good, right? Please tell me it was. I'll try to hurry for the next chapter if you do. Ha. You know that I thrive off of your praise and feedback. You know that the only reason I breathe is because I might be breathing in air that once filled your lungs. You know that my heart beats only for you. I love you. Please love me too.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Holy shite! Look at me go! Never have I updated so quickly! See? I told you I'd be fast. And I am very very proud of myself. Someone asked me what was with the 'shuttey' thing. I…Well, it's just a quirk. Only Draco says it. I wanted him to have a quirk, okay? Don't you like it? **

**Someone else said something about Draco being the dominant. Hm…I don't know, I just think he's…controlling. Actually I think of…You know what? I don't know. I have trouble with things like this. With decisions. With labeling. With sentence fragments. Did you notice all the fragments? Well you know what? I love sentence fragments. I think they are so emphatic and nice and…and the rules of English suck!**

**And I'm a little sad to say this is the last chapter. Perhaps this is why I'm just rambling on…It's my last chance to ramble to you hot wet lovers. What did I just call you? Why am I so retarded? SHUT UP! I was talking! Erm, oh yes. The last chapter of my very first fanfiction! I hope I did okay. I already have plans for more fics, though! Oh yes, heck yes I do. **

**DISCLAIMER: One day maybe people will write fanfics about a book I wrote, and will have to make disclaimers saying that it's MINE. But not today. Today I must credit the great Ms. Rowling. I'd lick dog shit off of your shoes, love. Ew, ok maybe not. Haha can you imagine what the world would do if J.K. Rowling died in a car crash tomorrow and never finished the seventh book? Oh man…**

Chapter Nine 

"Harry, are you alright?" asked Hermione worriedly over her breakfast. "Did you even sleep last night?"

Harry's face was quite pale, but there were dark circles around his eyes. It was much like looking at Julian Casablancas after one of his typical Tuesday nights.

"Of course I slept," Harry replied, irritated. "I'm perfectly fine, now go snog Ron or something."

Hermione looked highly affronted, but turned away, determined to remain a good friend and not push it too much with Harry. Ron, however, had no mind for these things and of course took this opportunity to make Harry want to gauge out his own eyes, although of course, he had no idea that the very subject he was about to bring up was the one that Harry could not stop thinking about anyway. And I bet you know what it is! But in case you suffer from mental retardation, here's a hint; it's tall, blonde, aristocratic, and snarky.

"Harry, you still haven't told me what the fuck Malfoy was doing to you yesterday in Potions."

Harry gave him a dark look, and with his face lowered and his black hair partially covering his darkly circled eyes, it was quite menacing.

"He was trying to get off on me. He had a boner and was humping my leg to get rid of it."

Ron groaned, and Hermione's eyes looked ready to bulge out of her head.

"That, mate, was not needed! Ugh, you bloody sicko. Fucking disgusting…" said Ron.

Hermione stayed silent, but was studying Harry closely. Her brown eyes positively glowing with intelligence had an extra spark of knowing this time. Harry hated it. He hated her. He hated Draco. _Malfoy_, he corrected himself.

"I'm sorry I brought it up," muttered Ron, though Harry had already gotten up and was heading toward the door of the Great Hall. He'd always been fond of wandering the halls of the castle aimlessly before classes (and occasionally during classes), and especially loved to do it when he was stressed. Which was pretty much always, thanks to that damn Voldemort character, but you know. Extra-special stressed. Like now. He just wanted Draco to tell him what was going on. And then bang him. _Oh, I didn't mean that!_ Harry thought hastily.

_Yes you fucking did mean it. You want him. Naked._

_Inner Voice? I thought you were gone…_

_No, Harry, love. Only quietly observing. _

_I don't want you. Get away from here, I'm dying._

_You want Draco instead?_

_Shut up! I..I think I need a hug._

_From Draco?_

_You're going to make me cry. Is that what you want?_

_No. I don't want you to cry, because I'm inside you, and your crying makes both of us look wimpy._

_I'm going to do it._

_Oh, you would, you little fuc—_

The voice's response was cut off as Harry was painfully wrenched back into the real world of sanity by a warm, hard, thump. Harry's eyes found themselves feasting once again on the slender body of Draco Malfoy.

"No. Fucking. Way. You again? Where the hell did you come from? And why are you always around? This is like a fucking movie or something!"

Draco smirked, just a little one, at Harry's flustered and disbelieving response.

"Harry, I didn't know you had such a dirty mouth. I quite like it."

Harry gaped. This — this wasn't what he needed right now! "Stop that! Can you just, just please tell me why it was you were so… so _close_ to me yesterday!"

"Well, I th— "

"And why you let everyone in the freaking classroom see? I mean, do you know how many people offered to 'smash your gay little face in' for me?"

"Aw, and you told them not to! You're just too sweet."

"Would you—" Harry paused as he noticed the rest of the school starting to filter into the halls.

Draco noticed this too. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into an empty classroom. Harry's heart started pounding involuntarily at the thoughts that inexplicably started racing through his mind.

"There, privacy. Go on, Harry. No, wait. Did you like it?"

"D- Like what?"

"Yesterday. You and I…And everyone staring, but us not caring. I know you don't really care that they saw, Harry."

Harry bit his lip.

"It still feels weird hearing you say my first name."

"Weird in the same way that taking it up the arse is weird?" Harry looked utterly dumbfounded, and Draco pulled a mock look of shock. "Who said that?"

Harry couldn't help but smile just a little at that, but then forced himself back down to business. Draco's dirty little charms wouldn't distract him, not this time!

But then he did get distracted after all.

Draco just looked oh so pretty. He fell deep into a thoughtful admiration of the blonde. Everyone was wearing the school uniform, so why did it seem like Draco was so well-dressed? Harry's eyes rested on Draco's green and silver tie for a moment. It was so tight and perfectly knotted. Why didn't he loosen it? No, Harry didn't want to loosen Draco's tie and undo a few buttons on his shirt. Why would you think that?

"Harry?" asked Draco, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" murmured Harry.

"Did you like it?"

Harry sighed. Of course he liked it. Who wouldn't like being pressed up against such a pretty, pretty boy? He nodded.

"Regrettably, yes."

Draco smiled. Not a smirk. A smile.

"Draco, it wasn't easy for me to write that note, you know. I'm kind of a wreck here. Can you just tell me if you're playing with me or not?"

Draco softened.

"I kissed you. Isn't that clear enough, Harry?"

"But— but you…How do I know that means anything? Don't you know what you did to me? I was perfectly happy before, being completely straight, hating you…And then you go and…be fun! And start flirting with me!"

"I believe you're the one that started it, love."

"N-no! Well I really was only playing around. But you started…" Harry trailed off. "Please just help me unfreak myself out!"

Draco was melting. The sight of Harry Potter, boy wonder, saviour of the world, neglected, under pressure, beautifully impossibly strong, was a puddle at his feet. Draco could crush him right now. He could laugh in his face, tell him he knew all along he was a fag, tell the whole school that Harry was in love with him.

He could crush Harry.

Don't worry.

He couldn't really do it.

Not ever.

He couldn't, he wouldn't. This squishy pile of mush encased in tough, almost unbreakable metal was just too lovely. He was perfectly imperfect, and Draco really did like him. He felt himself getting all warm and cuddly just looking at Harry. And warm and cuddly was not usually his thing.

He stepped towards Harry and put his arms around the boy. Harry stiffened. (Oh no, not in that way! Get your mind out of the gutter, you perv!)

He buried his face in Harry's neck and squished against him, trying as hard as he could to get their hearts to touch.

"It's not a game," he whispered.

And Harry was glad.

And he relaxed, finally, into Draco's arms.

The End! Of it all! 

**A/N: Ohhh it's finished! What did you think? What a waste of space. Nine chapters? And to think this was going to be a oneshot. Hahaha. **

**Well, good-bye for now!**


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